song 1

Wow, full circle. A year ago today i was sitting on the floor of Pete's room in Mark and Tracey's house going through the painstakingly-made top 15 lists of some of my besties. i highly, highly recommend having a top 15 'party' of your own with your besties. It's enlightening and fun. It's really easy too: you plan a date and tell everyone to come with a cd of their top 15 songs, in order of toppest to 15th-est, then you take turns going through your choices and why you chose them. The only rule is that there's no judgement. 14 Britney Spears songs and 1 Muse song? So be it. You must ascribe to 'to each his/her own' when engaging in the top 15 sharing circle. Anyway, we made copies of our mixes for everyone. It's best to plan the event a month out to allow everyone time to really think about their lists, because for most, it's a challenging task. Although it has nothing to do with new years, ours happened to be on new years and it's a superb memory.

i hadn't planned on stretching out the bloglist of my top 15 for the entire year, but i just happened to realize today was the anniversary and i'm down to my number 1. How keen! Perhaps it's a sign and 2010 will be a keen year..... hmmmm....

Song One.

You know this song, it's programmed into your subconscious if you were born around or after 1979. It was originally written by Paul Williams and Kenny Ascher as a soundtrack song and recorded by Jim Henson's alter ego, Kermit, the frog. (Wiki has good backstory on this song, in case you're curious.) Many, many artists have recorded their own versions, to varying results. Sarah McLachlan has a beautiful version and the Dixie Chicks prominently feature the original's signature banjo in theirs. But these are not my choice.

My choice is Willie.

As i've said before, when i began constructing my top 15 it was helpful to list a few artists i knew were important enough to my musical life to include, and then select a favorite song from said artist. One such artist was Willie Nelson, because my siblings and i were raised on Willie, James Taylor, and the Eagles. And because like everyone else born in the early 80s, i was also raised on/by The Muppets, the natural convergence would be the song of all songs, The Rainbow Connection. Is it a little cliche of a choice? Sappy? Sure. But i'm not just choosing a childhood song, and a 'can't-we-all-just-get-along-while-we-follow-our-dreams?' song at that. i chose Willie's version for it's musicality. (Kermit, bless his goofy heart, is not the world's most melodious singer) Sarah McLachlan's version is very musical, but too ethereal. i prefer Willie's version for it's grounded simplicity and guitarity. (Yup, just made up a really awesome word.)

It's a great song because it's a little melancholy and wistful in that Robert Browning 'ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?' sense. (you know, that sense? the one everyone's always talking about? no? just me? *sigh*) It's also very optimistic and inspirational, which is why, i think, i gravitate toward to the Willie Nelson recording. His voice is at times raw, at times wavery, at times imperfect, and those factors, combined with the earthy and bare guitar keep the 'follow your dreams' message from taking over and making it a very saccharine, very American-Idol-finale type of musical gag-inducer. i love Willie Nelson's voice, some songs much more so than others, so when i knew i wanted a Willie song on my top 15 i searched for one that i felt accurately demonstrated why his voice is one of my most favorites and this was obviously one.

Another one of my methods for deciding which songs would make the top 15 was the method of 'would i want this song played at my funeral and what would it say about me if it were?' i know, totally dramatic and self-absorbed, right? Whatever. This was one that made it through that filter.

Concluding, in sum, finally and at last: please to enjoy my number-1-most song of everness, 'Rainbow Connection', as performed by Willie Nelson.

sum of all fears

Our dearest darling dog, Penny, is a mutt of some sorts, but is mostly pit bull.
In case you've been living under a rock for 10 years, pit bulls are unilaterally feared and hated because they breathe fire and murder virgins and traffic humans across borders to harvest their organs and stuff. They're large, sleek and muscular, so they tend to attract owners who prioritize strength and, subsequently, violence in the same way small, curly-haired and simpering dogs attract little old ladies and girls with large purses. The different appearances and temperments of dog breeds are what make them the #1 household pet of humans; this is why it works. Anyway, pits attract jerks and bottom feeders like Michael Vick and that creepy guy who lives around the corner, and these a-holes rear their dogs in irresponsible, dangerous ways and then the rest of the world goes, 'Bad dogs! Inherently evil! Should be banned from breathing oxygen! Gahhhhh!'
There are bright spots: pit bull rescue organizations like Villalobos and celebrity advocates like Rachel Ray (hey! she's good for something!) and just about every time we take Penny out on local walking trails at least one person will fawn over her and share their own pro-pit testimony. i don't doubt that for every 1 local fan there are 5 people who shoot dagger-eyes as soon as we pass and move their children to the other side of the trail when they see us coming, but phooey on them.
i'm aware that there are bad pits out there and people are allowed to form their opinion on their experiences. My friend was a police officer in the Bay Area for 6 years and she witnessed things that will prevent her from ever being completely comfortable around pit bulls. i will probably never own a German Shepherd because of the time our family pet threatened me. Experiences should form our opinions, though, not fear-mongering or gossip.
A lecture is not why i started this post, but apparently i woke up on the defensive side of the bed.
We have a pit-mutt. We adopted her from a local rescue group who had busted her out of the pound before she could be euthanized; she was in the pound because her owner was a shady character and had been taken to court. She is needy and neurotic but also loyal and silly and affectionate and she's learning to catch treats. Here is a list of things our big, scary, baby-killing dog is absolutely terrified by:

-tape measures, both the hardware kind for measuring walls and the sewing kind for measuring sleeves
-ladders
-cell phones
-cameras
-hairspray
-wrapping paper
-showerheads
-small plastic tubes
-Furminators

Not scared of but maybe should be? Fire. Possums. Mormons. Don't look for the rhyme or reason. She's a strange dog, befitting her environment and owners i suppose. She's available for loan if you need some dog therapy or want to do a pit test run before adopting your own.

what do you DO anywhere?

We went on holiday, as the Britties say. We ditched our biological families and spent Thanksgiving and its companion days cavorting around the great northwest in our little car. First we drove through Oregon in the rainy dark. It was literally dry and nice in California and then the minute we crossed the border it started snowing, because Oregon has a HUGE chip on its shoulder and just has to prove that it's NOT California, thankyouverymuch. So it was rainy and dark for 4 hours and i'm going to say something, but i'm going to preface it with this: Oregon is very pretty. At night? in the rain? MOST BORING DRIVE E V E R. You might argue that any drive in the dark is going to be boring, but i disagree. There's not a whole lot going on in OR along the i-5 corridor. No towns. No lights. No signs to read. BOR. ING. (See the attached image that i took with my fancy camera at the most exciting part of the drive.) So go ahead, Gonies, get your angry comments fingers flexing and bring it on, but the beauty of a blog is that i don't have to account for what i say. (love you)

Anyway, we got to Portland in the dark rain and arrived at Erin's home and proceeded to play with Erin (hi Erin!) for the next few days. With the exception of our drive, the weather was gorgy (which it always is when we're in town (which leads Erin to believe we're witches (which i'm not going to deny because a lady has to maintain her mystique))). We strolled through the park, we shopped, we dined, and we went to Tony Starlight's Supper Club & Lounge and heard Erin's roommate, Tara, and a handful of other talents do Johnny Mercer right. GREAT music, drinks and food with just enough camp to keep the stuffies away. i highly recommend paying Tony and his crooners a visit the next time you're in Portland. After Erin wiped her hands of us we met up with Pete and Bets and enjoyed some boozy milkshakes and Por Que No food. Good times all around.

After we bid adieu to those hipsters, we connected with Katie, Bobby and their unborn burrito, Trixie True Trihub*. It was a short visit, about 16 hours including sleeping, but they're always super fun to see and they have the world's most comfortable couch.

Back on the 5 (which is an interstate) and up into Washington, where there are no billboards. Did you know that? No billboards in the state of Washington. Just trees. Oh, another word about Oregon: several Adult Shops (one with a 24 hour arcade!) along the 5. Kinda pervy, O-gon. Just a little bit. Anyway, Washington. Trees. No rain, but mucho water. i don't think i've ever driven through WA before, i didn't realize how spotty it was. Lots of inlets and bays and ports. i had no clue. (the more you know...dun dun dun duuuuun....cue peacock graphic) We made to tiny Bremerton and to Jason and Winter's lovely old house on the water. What water? i dunno. We're talking about Washington here, could've been any water. Kitties Lola and Buster were like 'Oh my goodness! Kallie is here! We're so excited we're going to pee our kittypants! We love Kallie so much!**' J and Winter took us to see Samudra, the business Winter and Kath opened and for which Josh designed the logo and i served as human resources consultant***. It was super great to finally see the studio and cafe that we've heard so much about for so long. Samudra was beach chic- homey and peaceful and stylish. The foods and drinks were absolutely delish, especially the fun iced tea whose name i've forgotten but starts with an S.

Wednesday night we went to the world's coolest grocery store and shopped and dined in Poulsbo, which is like the Norwegian version of Chinatown (Lefse included. Yay lefse!). i don't remember the name of the restaurant where we et, but if you're looking for a high-style meal and vino at a surprisingly good price, go to Poulsbo and find the restaurant a few doors down from Sluy's (not Slutty's) bakery with the signage in Papyrus font. (Yes, i know. But this is a good reason why we shouldn't judge an establishment based solely on its chosen type treatment) tra la la la....what's next...

Thursday morning, Day of Giving Thanks: up very early (well, early for a vacay day) to go to Samudra and do yoga for the first time ever. We were a bit nervy because we are out of shape, not very bendy, and have never done yoga, but it was a good time! Teacher Kath led a very twisty class- all the twisties squeezed our organs and then unsqueezed them so the blood rushed around and got our digesters ready for the big meal. Then we had Thanksgiving with the Mitchell/Niemeyer/Nicholson clan which included TWO turkeys, a delish ginger/cider/vodka cocktail, and a boatload of madly rad green beans. After the meal was et and the family departed, J and Winter's friend Mike popped in to say hello. Mike has many, many tattoos and is the main dude for a punky little band you may have heard of: MxPx. (Yup. It's like that.) We played Apples to Apples (which is a super game) and had a lovely punk rawk time.

Friday, we and the rest of Kitsap county went to the Christmas tree farm to select J and Winter's tree....which i just realized we forgot to name. (everything needs a name, except cattle, sheep and other creatures you plan on eating. i learned that the hard way, but that is for another blog on another day.) Perhaps the tree should be Trixie True. Write that down, Winter. i discovered that there is a breed of tree called the Shasta Fir (not to be confused with Brendafer) so that was a delightful shoutout to the RDG way up in Washer country. We skillfully attached the tree to the top of the compact car, then proceeded to pile all 5 of us in to the car through the only working door: the driver's. Teehee....lesson learned. Afterward we put up holiday decor at Samudra and ate a bizarre and wonderful dinner of green beans, yam casserole, and fresh Puget Sound crab. i'd never et crab before, and i'm still not sure i like it enough to counteract the squeamy factor of cracking the creature apart. Still, mark that one off my bucket list.

On Saturday i went to the dentist, which is what i do when i'm on holiday. The dentist in question was J, so it was fun, and i got prescription toothpaste. (How many people do you know whose teeth are so bad they need prescription toothpaste? Probably just me. If you know me. If you don't....Hi. Nice to not-exactly meet you.) Later we went to pizza and got drinks at the oh-so-odd Hi-Fidelity Lounge, where Samudra employee Vanessa LePapillon was performing. She was very talented and we enjoyed people-watching a Liev Schrieber lookalike who was trying to stay awake and sober. (Liev: "Cannnn i getnother Comsopotilan?" Bartender: "If you can't pronounce it you can't order it." Haha!)

Sunday we drove back. Boo. Oregon wasn't so bad in the light and we stopped for some Christmas shopping at Bridgeport Village. Whilst in one particular hoitytoit-yet-bohemian-kitsch store whose name certainly does not rhyme with Anthropolgie, a salesperson initiated a conversation with Josh about where we lived. Being relatively familiar with Northern California, she was most curious to know just what sort of profession the two of us professed because, in her words she 'just always wanted to know what people DO in Redding.' (emphasis hers) To reiterate, the 40-something woman selling overpriced mugs in a mall wanted to know what there could possibly be in weirdo, podunk Redding that would allow anyone to eek out a paycheck, so help her God. i was a little steamed. i wanted to punch her in her overpriced face and then run out of the store with one of the $148 cardigans****.

And then we drove home. The end.

*Trixie True is an in-utero baby who is not actually named Trixie True......yet.

**At least, this was how i interpreted the hissing and swiping every time i walked past them or how every time i tried to pet them they ran away and hid.

***This consisted of saying 'yes, i agree that you should fire the cranky barista who reads celebrity gossip on the company computer on company time.' And yes, this image of your banana bowl comes up on page 1 of Google Images for the keyword search 'samudra yoga, bremerton.'

****Clearly, i was conflicted.